Archive for the breakfast Category

Posted in breakfast with tags , , on March 29, 2011 by ana

I found a Kate Bush CD in a box yesterday and it’s been on in my car non-stop. It has been years since I listened to Hounds of Love. Everything about it is perfection-the photograph on the cover, the theatricality of the songs, and how personal each feels. At the beginning of a song she says: I put this moment here. And it felt so apropos. That is how everything feels right now.

Up to this point I have been listening to Florence and the Machine steadily. I don’t know where I would be without Florence keeping me company during this period of my life. I love when music does that, when it carries you through, when it makes you buoyant no matter what you are going through.

Milly and I had breakfast this morning at this pretty place around the corner from me called Olive & Thyme. With its white walls lined with honey and cookbooks, the subway tiles, and the long refurbished-wood communal table it looks like something I imagine would be in the Hampton’s, I’ve never been, or like a small Joan’s on Third. Milly and I shared a yummy cheddar, egg, and bacon panini and a bowl of berries with Greek yogurt and honey. She looked gorgeous. Her hair was big and curly. She wore skinny, light-grey pants with a big cream sweater coated with silver paint, a blush shrug, and bright orange flats. We gabbed about clothes, work, how much we miss New York and what it would be like to move back. Would we be able to bring back with us that calm, easy, loveliness LA brings to our lives or would it be all out, out, out. Eating out, meeting people out for drinks, and coveting every last beautiful thing.

I saw these photographs online of this beautiful two bedroom apartment on Elizabeth street. Unrealistic as it may be that is where I want to be, that is where I would like to be. To walk out my front door and get a coffee at Cafe Gitane, eat the little Belgian chocolate they give you with it and go about my day.

It would be really hard to give up what I have in LA. Specially the long, lovely breakfasts I have with friends. Milly said, “lets have a quick weekend getaway see our friends and the Alexander McQueen show.”

“If I stop spending money like it grows on trees then, yes, let’s getaway.”

There is a song by David Byrne and Brian Eno, Strange Overtones, that has been playing at the restaurant a few times a night. In the song the narrator hears the person next door working on a song. The song makes me miss NY- hearing what others are doing around you. Creating, being creative is very different in New York and in Los Angeles. Here there is more nature, you can easily recede and find a calmness. New York is about the opposite, about the energy outside your door, an inescapable energy. Strange Overtones reminds me of when I lived on Claremont Avenue off of 125Th street in a building very close to the Manhattan School of Music. Someone played the cello all day and it would waft through building beautifully. I loved that. I crave that.

luckiest girl

Posted in breakfast with tags , , on December 6, 2010 by ana

I have been camping out at my friend’s hotel room since last night.

Last night was a fun and at the same time it was tough. Even if I know why things didn’t work it doesn’t mean it’s easy. It might make it a little easier but it still sucks, and there are many moments of just utter loss and devastation. In the past couple of days I’ve really begun to understand why the man who loves me and who I love couldn’t commit to me. The feeling has shifted from feeling rejected to feeling grounded. The love doesn’t change but I understand more. In some really concrete way I finally feel what I have only gotten glimpses of in the past- that it has really nothing to do with me.

Still, last night while at my acting teacher’s Christmas party I felt really sad. Someone asked me where I lived and I said Koreatown. When he asked me who I lived with I said my boyfriend. It felt funny but I didn’t want to say- with my cousin. Until a month ago I was a grown woman living in an amazing apartment with the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. I think the hardest, hardest part of the letting go is the rupture of my identity. I really felt comfortable being in love. I really adored being Leo’s girlfriend. I was pleased as punch about the life we lived together.
Now that all that is gone I feel fractured. And for as much as I want the loss, and love, and anger, and disbelief to change to what it will eventually be, I can not force myself to cherish. It will come when time has run it’s course but I know that is where I am headed.

The party was lovely. Candles where lit everywhere, and there were several fire pits. Big stainless steel pots were filled with sangria, and the air smelled of bonfire and cinnamon. Everyone looked so lovely. Everybody was good-looking. Everybody was at least fourteen years younger than me. I left feeling the magic of the twinkle but also a little uneasy. It was a feeling that followed me to the next party. I was trying to put it in words but I couldn’t quite get it. I think in the end it all boils down to not being entirely sure how I feel about my teacher or my class. I don’t know if it’s me- how vulnerable I feel or that the things I’m working in class have hit a nerve. Everyone is really nice, people do great work but I miss the tight sense of community from my old acting studio, and I miss my old teacher who taught me Alexander Technique. He really saw me. There is something about my current teacher that I can’t put my finger on.

It was a magical evening. I love always finding the magic in things, and it’s easy this time of year with so much festivity. I know that if someone can only see one side of me and not all the wonderful and complex things that I am, well that is beyond my control, that has nothing to do with me. Earlier yesterday, I did a new age kind of workshop with a friend. One of the things that they kept repeating was- what people think of you is none of your business. I know that I’m always concerned that people don’t always see me for me. Some people only see the sweetness or the self-consciousness but I’m really beginning to feel my wholeness more and more. And I hope that this wholeness truly releases me from caring. It certainly is helping me answer a question that I have always felt ill-equipped to answer; who am I?

Who am I? I am a 37 year old woman who loves to cook, and write, and act. I keep notebooks full of collages and photographs. I love clothes, and shoes, and handbags. I love the people that I love passionately be it friend or lover. I am generous sister, a loyal friend, and a thoughtful daughter. I am a giving girlfriend when I’m in a relationship. I am creative, and lionhearted, and lovely. I always remember a face. I pay attention to detail. I love to celebrate and entertain. And I am slowly becoming a bold lady. Bolder than I have ever been. The road has brought me here. And here is Sunday night. I have just had a massage in the hotel, and I had waffles in bed with one of my best friends for breakfast. Who I am is a girl holding aces.

Slowly, surely

Posted in breakfast with tags on November 27, 2010 by ana

It’s so easy to go down the “why?” road. Why is this happening? Why did this not work out? Why?

I walk with a sadness I can’t fully shake. I feel adrift. Last night I spent the evening on my friends couch talking. I slept over, and in the morning when I left I heard her neighbor scrambling eggs in a bowl. The sound shook me. Mornings, kitchens, those things don’t exist right now for me, not in the way I wished and wanted, not in the way that I had planned and built around me. Life is like that right? It is like that for everyone at one point or another.

The other day my sister said something really hurtful that cut right through me. She said, the difference between your relationship and mine is that Leo didn’t want a family with you. Her words were true but they hurt mostly because I had a healthy, loving, happy, stable relationship and that still wasn’t enough. It’s hard not to feel a little shame but I’m not sure why that is. Because I feel like somehow I failed? Because how could I have not been enough.

It’s hard not to compare. I look around and see my friends happily married, happily engaged, in love, struggling but also thriving. Why didn’t my relationship?

It’s so hard to let go but I must. I have to completely cut Leo off. I have to forget him. Every time we communicate it kills me. And it breaks my heart that I know he is in pain too but even in pain he has been unable to grow up, to evolve.

So in the words of Jill Scott:

Slowly surely
I walk away from
Slowly surely
I walk away from love
Oh slowly, surely one step at a time
but surely I will pass the old love aside and love me